Monday, July 02, 2007

I wrote!

Just a little Battle Royale fanfiction. A conversation between Nanahara and Kawada. Fits in with the canon of the novel more than the film, especially if Shougo wasn't a member of the class like I think he wasn't in the movie.

Shuya felt guilty, but at the same time he was relieved. He had promised himself that he’d take care of Nakagawa Noriko, the girl that Nobu had had a crush on for the past year. But it was a welcome relief to be able to have someone to trust and rely on, someone who seemed capable and had a far more realistic plan than a vague “Stay together until the end.”

Nanahara Shuya had never thought much about Kawada Shougo before today. Looking back, he supposed that he had avoided the older transfer student. It was obvious Kawada-san had “a past”- most likely nothing close to the rumors that were passed between the rest of the students of Third Year Class B, but something. A wariness in the eyes, perhaps, or the fact that Kawada rarely talked and never smiled.

It was a surprise that here, in this surreal situation, Kawada seemed to have let down his defenses- with Shuya and Noriko, at least; he was still justifiably wary of the rest of the class. Shuya sighed at that thought. Suspicion of their classmates was warranted; The Game had begun, and students had decided to participate.

“Nani?” Kawada asked. Shuya looked over to the older boy who was stirring the rice.

“Hmm?” Shuya replied with a puzzled look.

Kawada clarified. “You sighed. What’s on your mind?”

“I didn’t think that anyone would actually choose to play along.”

His companion replaced the lid on the cooker. “It’s easy for some and others would rather die than kill. Most of us would kill if our lives depended on it. Nakagawa, for example, would probably choose death instead of firing a gun. I’ve already killed. You’d kill to save yourself as well as Nakagawa.”

Shuya frowned. “I’m not a murderer.”

Kawada smiled grimly. “Didn’t say you were. You just have a normal and healthy instinct for self-preservation. No shame in that. In fact, it’s a asset in this game.”

That statement caused a myriad of emotions to swirl in Shuya’s chest; not the least of which was pride that Kawada had paid him an offhand (although bizarre) compliment. That he was taking pride in the theory that he would defend himself to the extent of killing others made Shuya feel slightly sick.

“I hate how they call it a game,” he complained.

“To the government officials, that’s what it is. There are pools for the winners. It’s like dog racing to some of them. ‘Ten-to-three odds on Matsuri Tetsu.’ That sort of thing.”

Shuya shivered in fear and anger. “I hate the government!”

This time Kawada Shougo’s smile held wry humor. “Of course you do. You should.” He checked the rice, spooned it into two bowls, and handed one to Nanahara. “Here. I’ll go give this to Nakagawa.” He left the room leaving Shuya slumped in place staring into his rice and thinking about the unfairness of it all. How the government didn’t work for the people like it should and how nice girls like Nakagawa Noriko and Utsumi Yukie shouldn’t ever be handed weapons and told to murder each other. How wrong it was that Kawada Shougo was forced into this situation once, let alone twice.

But, he reminded himself as he picked up the chopsticks that were speared into the mound of white rice, he and Noriko were extremely lucky to have teamed up with Kawada. At least with him, a veteran of the BR program, they stood a chance of getting off this island no matter how slim.

Their current circumstances reminded him of one the contraband American rock songs that he loved. Shuya had never before had the understanding of the feelings behind the lyrics as he did now.

Softly, mindful of the two others in the back room, he began to sing.

Baby this town rips the bones from your backIts a death trap, its a suicide rapWe gotta get out while were young`cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run